I remember my devout little bedroom altars with a chalk statue of the Blessed Mother draped with my First Holy Communion rosary & surrounded with vases of lilacs & how jealous I was of Janie H, that bitch, because she was the littlest she always got to be the one who crowned Mary in the garden at HNA. That little bitch. Didn't Margie do it one year?
'Tis the month of our Mother
The blessed and beautiful days,
When our lips and our spirits,
are glowing with love and with praise.
All Hail! to dear Mary,
the guardian of our way;
To the fairest of
Be the fairest of seasons, sweet May.
Oh! what peace to her children,
mid sorrows and trials to know,
that the love of their Mother,
Hath ever a solace for woe.
the guardian of our way;
To the fairest of
Be the fairest of seasons, sweet May.
